The birthday of doom

Coming up in about three weeks, my birthday of doom: 2026 – 1940 = 86. A bad omen. As in NOAD: verb eighty-six (also 86): [with object] North American English informal 1 eject or bar (someone) from a restaurant, bar, etc.: they were accused of cheating, and eighty-sixed from their favorite casino. 2 reject, discard, or cancel: the passwords will be 86ed by next October. ORIGIN 1930s (as a noun, used in restaurants and bars to indicate that a menu item is unavailable or that a customer is not to be served): perhaps rhyming slang for nix ‘nothing’. I know, you will reassure me: mox nix. That is, es macht nichts ‘it doesn’t matter’. I have long gotten accustomed to living on the verge of death, just getting from day to day. I’m not going to get around to the big projects I had in mind, but I’m fine spinning out whatever ideas catch my fancy (and a dozen or so new ones materialize every day). When I do eventually die, everything will be a big fucking mess and a lot of baffling work for my…